


Ten Songs, Ten Kisses

by Mandibles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunkenness, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Kissing, M/M, Marijuana, Rare Pairings, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandibles/pseuds/Mandibles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of drabble-y rarepair kisses inspired by songs on my iPod.</p><p>Update: Sheriff Stilinski/Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Paper Planes - M.I.A.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in a writing rut, so I need to write random stuff.

Lydia scrunches her nose at the pipe, but that doesn’t stop her from parting glossed lips when Erica tugs on her chin and blows a steady stream of smoke into her mouth. Her eyes flutters shut as she takes it in easily, her peace disturbed only when a nail—claw?—taps her chest and the words, “Hold it,” are murmured across her cheek with sticky lips. And, she does, she holds her breath until she feels it in her chest, until her eyes start to water. When she gasps for fresh oxygen, Erica’s mouth meets her instead, devious and vicious as it chases the tail of the smoke. Lydia finds it easier to return it, to tilt her head and map the weed-soured insides of Erica’s mouth with a hungry tongue. Calloused hands and dainty fingers curl, twine into hair and the pipe disappears somewhere between them.


	2. We're Going To Be Friends - The White Stripes

Knowing each other for so long, they share practically everything. This feels no different than passing a juice box between them or having splash fights in the tub as kids. They chuckle and giggle like they’re still five as they sink under the covers of their collapsed fort they worked all evening on in the livingroom, their fingers interlocking so naturally together. Their foreheads, noses bump and  Scott’s the one that pushes their lips together and Stiles is the one that introduces tongue and it’s just so right, you know? They shared everything else, so why not this? Why not gentle kisses under sheets and comforters with some stupid movie white noise in the background? Why not legs hooking and linking with cold, wriggling toes? It’s a part of them, a part of what they have together, and not Allison or Derek or the whole werewolf thing could ever take that away from them.


	3. Steady As She Goes - The Raconteurs

She’s nothing like Lydia, not in the way she shoves him against his Porsche and devours him, conquers in barely a breath. He’s too drunk, though, too warm and lax from the Jack Daniels that’s fertilizing the grass somewhere to fight, to even care to fight, and he only lurches forward into the kiss as far as he can go. But she’s a wolf, she can bear his weight, and that’s the absolute hottest thing Jackson’s seen in the past few hours; he grips blond curls tightly as his tongue laps at her mouth, her lips, in sloppy, drunken strokes and she doesn’t seem to mind, chuckling with a devious grin. And, he swears, swears, that this is it—forget Lydia, forget everyone, he’s in love. Then, with a vicious bite to his neck that he’s sure will bruise, she’s gone, and he scrambles for his keys.


	4. Chasing Pavements - Adele

Jackson knows Mrs. Argent’s side of the bed is barely cold by the time he backs her widowed husband against the door. And, that’s what makes this awful, so horribly wrong; it’s worse than the fact that Chris is the werewolf hunter and Jackson’s the boy who stumbled drunk into the woods, pleading for the bite. He expects a shove—a hit even—but, as he presses closer and Chris doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, he thinks that maybe—maybe— His breath comes in a shudder when his own lips are a hairsbreadth away from Chris’ tight-lipped frown and a moment passes. Then, Chris closes that gap, hands burning paths as he grabs handfuls of Jackson’s hoodie and drags him closer into a biting, desperate kiss. Jackson goes limp, arms hanging at his sides, and he loses himself in the simple taste of toothpaste and whiskey that is Chris Argent.


	5. She's So High - Tal Bachman

Boyd doesn’t expect it at all despite the ominous bounce of strawberry blond curls he barely catches in the peripheral of his vision. But, when he slams his locker shut, she’s there, right there, and reaching for him with a curl of lip gloss. This isn’t the first time they’ve kissed—or, rather, she’s kissed him—but, it’s different here in the middle of the hallway during passing time, in front of _people_ , with her pretty, manicured nails biting into his biceps. Lydia bites down on his lip, tears his attention from Whittemore’s vicious, blue eyes, and he’s lost when she takes full advantage of his parted lips. And, she’s just so beautiful, so perfect, and so, so  _his_  just as he’s so, so  _hers_  and it’s the absolute greatest feeling in the world. Boyd’s hands claim her waist, Lydia pulls away with a chuckle, and there’s absolutely no other place he’d rather be.


	6. Girl Anachronism - Amanda Palmer

He barely makes it through the door before she’s on him, ankles hooking behind him, nails scratching through his scalp. And, it _hurts_. “Ow—shit—what’re you—” Erica gnashes her teeth and Scott instinctively returns the feral gesture, their teeth clacking loudly. The kiss is almost not a kiss at all, but this clusterfuck of tongues and lips and teeth trying to figure out how to work with each other through a painful bit of trial and error. Scott missteps yet that doesn’t stop Erica from sealing a glossed mouth over his even as they tumble, sprawl across the carpet in a mess of elbows, knees, and blond curls. On the floor, dazed, Scott’s tongue somehow still works, still battles hers for dominance until he digs his claws into her ass and she relents. For the moment.


	7. I Think I Like You - Donora

Boyd’s still reeling from the declaration, Stiles can see it, but he figures that that works for him in the long run, because Boyd doesn’t pull away when he pushes. He’s never really, you know, kissed anyone before; it can’t possibly be that hard though, right? He takes in Boyd’s startled exhale deeply as he tilts his head, skims their lips over each other, chapped lips catching. Then, Boyd’s bursting forward to return the kiss, tentative hands tugging handfuls of Stiles’ shirt. It’s strange, even stranger when Stiles cradles Boyd’s face and deepens the kiss, their tongues sliding around each other. It’s strange, because in a breath, Boyd’s handing Stiles the reins, letting him control how they move, how they hold each other, and there’s something absolutely _terrifying_ in the trust Boyd’s offering him, too. They part just enough to catch their breaths, noses grazing, when Boyd mumbles, “I think I like you, too.”


	8. Fluorescent Adolescent - Arctic Monkeys

Melissa has done a fair share of wrong things in her lifetime, like really, really awful things she doesn’t care to admit, but this somehow blows all of that right out of the water. Still, that doesn’t stop her from pushing into the lips that press against hers, from directing the eager, clumsy tongue that seems to be everywhere at once. And, she’s missed this so much, just kissing with no thundering anxieties or regrets or dreads; she’s lost in the mind-erasing passion of a teenaged boy’s kiss and it’s the absolute best thing she’s had in so long. As they stumble back into her bedroom, as he drags her onto the dresser with a clatter and strength she didn’t know he possessed, as he curls his fingers beneath her scrubs, sucks at her neck, Melissa thinks that pretending Stiles isn’t her son’s best friend for just a moment can be forgiven.


	9. Let Me Know - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Scott doesn’t really know how this started, when or why he started hanging around long after the rink has closed, watching the Zamboni cross the ice with a rumble. Boyd’s perched on it, his attention narrowed and focused, and Scott spends most of this time pondering what the flutter in his chest means. It doesn’t make sense, but whenever he comes here, a tension he never really noticed was there unfurls in his chest. When Boyd finally stops, finally hops off with a stretch and a pop, Scott shuffles to his side. Ignoring Boyd’s raised eyebrows and surprised, “McCall? What—” he presses against him, presses him against the Zamboni, cradles his face in his hands, and brushes their lips together. Boyd’s eyes fly open and he gasps, but he doesn’t pull away and nothing else in this world makes sense anyway. The relief, want that blossom between them makes it worthwhile.


	10. Imagine - Jack Johnson (John Lennon cover)

They never talk about this, about how it started or even what it is, but that suits the Sheriff just fine. If he dwells too much on it, he might remember that the damaged man—borderline criminal—he reaches for was the scared boy who sat in his office six years ago, his arm around his sister’s shoulders. He saw the man in him then, but sees the boy in him now as he curls his hands around that stubbled jaw and leans in for a kiss. Derek goes still when their lips touch, arms firmly at his sides and lips taut, sealed; then, he bursts forward with no warning, scrabbling for the reins with the sticky hands of a child. And, the Sheriff lets him, lets him take control and pry his mouth open with a demanding tongue and claw at his shoulders. Because if that’s what gives Derek Hale peace, the Sheriff figures he deserves it more than anyone.


End file.
